A Fool for Him
by bigteamug
Summary: "...His grip softened and he took his other hand behind her neck and brought her face to his and he grinned his Jackie-Boy grin, "Alright then, babydoll. Good. I'll forgive you for that. I'm a generous kinda' guy..."


"One, twoooooo—"

"Alright, alright, _alright_ - _alright!_"

Shellie sprinted for the door, and scrambled for the lock as Jackie-Boy's deep scratchy voice came from behind the beat-up door. As she swung it open a small part of the back of her mind reminded her that she was still wearing Dwight's shirt. But it was too late to change now, and her stomach went into a knot as Jackie-Boy swept through the doorway into her apartment.

He was alone, which was a surprise since his "troops" seemed to go wherever he went, but sometimes he would come over and invite himself in to "spend time" with her. She was grateful enough that she wouldn't have to deal with his bastard cronies for one night, since Jackie-Boy always hit her twice as hard in front of them, just for effect. She had pleaded with Dwight to get the hell out of her place before Jackie-Boy started to get pissed off by her witty comebacks, and Dwight had finally given in with a sigh and stalked off to the bedroom to get his clothes on. She hoped he had climbed out through a window by now.

Jackie-Boy stepped into the room smelling of cheap-ass booze and sweat, and while standing he swayed just a bit.

He was piss-face drunk to say the least.

He was wearing his usual out-on-the-town get-up, with a leather jacket, a button shirt underneath, and faded blue jeans. A silver chain hung from his neck. Even as wasted as he was, she _still _couldn't help admiring his figure. He had just a little more weight to his stomach that came with age but she knew that underneath those leather sleeves were hard, lean muscles. She stopped herself from admiring him too much, because she knew she was a damned fool for gettin' the hots for him, way back when. She had been a damned fool.

"That's better." he grunted, sweeping back some of his lanky hair from his dark, glazed eyes. "I was hopin' you wouldn't make a scene, baby. Don't you do me like that again – standing out there like a _fuckin'_ idiot yelling at you all _damn _night."

His hand shot out and grabbed her upper arm, clenching it, pulling her close to his chest. His eyes flashed and his mouth turned into a sneer. She whimpered a little, feeling his iron grip push down on an old layer of bruises and scrapes he had left the weekend before, "I'm sorry honey – ah!—I-I'm sorry. I won't, I won't."

His grip softened and he took his other hand behind her neck and brought her face to his and he grinned his Jackie-Boy grin, "Alright then, babydoll. Good. I'll forgive you for that. I'm a generous kinda' guy." He paused for a moment and then brought his mouth to hers and kissed her hard, his other hand at her arm snaking around behind to grab her ass. His hair fell down over her face, blanketing out the room around her and she felt herself melting into him despite all the hatred she felt for him. A damned fool, again. As he pressed harder against her, she felt a familiar hardness against her very naked thigh, and knew exactly how the night was going to go from there on out. Just like every night.

Well at least his mood was better now, for the moment.

He suddenly let go of her, shoving her away and made his way over to the kitchen to the fridge, and pulled out a beer. She felt very chilly standing in the middle of the tiled floor in nothing but a shirt, bra, and panties – oh god, _Dwight's_ shirt – her gut went numb. Had he noticed yet? She had to get it off somehow, but she dared not leave the room. She didn't want to be chased down by a raving drunk. She tried to act as normal and sullen as possible and padded over to the end of the kitchen counter, watching him guzzle down the rest of the beer.

"You shouldn't drink anymore y'know? What? You couldn't drink enough at the bar you gotta' come here and take all that I got?"

"We share things, baby, that's how it works. Y'scan buy more whenever."

She snorted and rolled her eyes, "Money don't' grow on trees, stud. I got better things to buy than 3 packs of beer every week for you and your troops. Food, for one."

"There you go again… talkin' like that. That damned attitude you got, Shellie…" He set down the beer with a _clank_ and stalked over to her, eyes watching her intently (as much as a drunk could).

He stopped right in front of her and frowned, "I came here to spend time with you, baby. And all you can do is _bitch_ at me, for every god-_damn_ thing you can think of."

Shellie's lip trembled a little, but straightened up to him anyway and said quietly with venom, "You're_ drunk_ Jackie-boy, if you haven't noticed, hun. You _smell _god-awful." He just smirked a little and huffed out a soft laugh. Her face contorted into a scowl and it took everything she had to not lash out and slap his face until her hand hurt. She looked him up and down.

"Sleep it off – get lost, Jack." She turned –

But his hand caught the collar of Dwight's shirt and he pulled her back to face him so hard the air was flung out of her lung. She gasped and choked as he spat out the words, with a quiet, deadly fury, that she had feared since he stepped in the door, "That's not one of _my_ shirts….Who's _is_ it, Shellie?" He had a confused look on, handsome brow wrinkled, but that look was quickly turning darker. She just looked at him speechless, trying to think of some lie to tell him, but nothing came out. It might have been that her lungs still needed air, or just the fact that she felt like a mouse caught in a cat's stony glare.

"I-….it-"

"Fucking—…godamnit! His face is almost motionless but his eyes are burning, smoldering with anger she knows only too well. "You stupid slut, Shellie, you godamn—"

He shakes her hard a couple times by the collar and she tries in vain, holding on to his wrist with both her hands, to stop him. He drags her into the bedroom and shoves her onto the bed with a _thud._ She falls with a whirl of hair and limbs, and scrambles to sit up. Jackie-Boy stands on the end of the bed and breathes out hard a couple times through his nose, with one hand on his hip.

There's a moment of dead silence and then he speaks quietly in his rough voice,

"Who is he?"

"Honey, there's n—"

"DON'T YOU—_fuckin'_ TELL me there's no one Shellie. Don't you fuckin' DO ME that way NOW."

She cringes. She starts as he starts taking off his jacket and shirt first. She shakes her head even though she knows it'll do no good now, "It was – it-it was only for a night, I _swear!_ He meant nothin' to me. I just f-felt sort for 'im." She looked at him with pleading eyes but doubted it would do any good.

"What so I'm not good'nuff for you, baby? Everything we shared…'thought it meant somethin' to you." He shook the hair out of his eyes again and started to unzip his pants. He shook them off and climbed onto the bed and kneeled, still with his underwear on. She could see his thick hardness through the fabric and blanched.

"J-Jackie-boy—"

"If he meant nothin' to you then prove it to me Shellie. Let me forgive you, baby. And besides –" he pulled off the remaining piece of clothing to reveal his hard cock, moisture glistening on the head, "I gotta make sure that I wipe 'im from yer mind, baby. So there's nothin' left of him." He sat back on his haunches and rubbed the inside of his thighs slowly with his sculptured hands, then his hard length a few times, looking at her with a gaze full of lust.

"Take off the shirt, and the rest of it, baby," he murmured, eyes tracing her every curve. She shivered, half from fear of how rough he'd be tonight, half from arousal. He always managed to pull her in and seduce her every time, and she hated and loved him for it. She quickly pulled off Dwight's shirt and peeled off her bra and underwear. Jackie-boy grunted softly in approval and she was suddenly roughly pulled up into his arms for another ravenous kiss. His tongue battled with hers and he tasted of beer and ash. She felt her lower body go to jelly as his sensuous, full lips devoured her mouth. How she _loved _those lips.

He moved forward quickly, making her fall onto the sheets. As soon as she was flat on the bed he surged forward to capture one of her breasts in his mouth. He sucked on it hard, swirling his tongue around and around, making her nipple harden. She gasped. She forgot how the good could mix with the bad when it came to being with him. She clutched at his hair, breathe coming out in deep pants as he moved to devour her other breast. "J-Jack—god."

He stopped and turned his face upwards and smirked, rasping out a quick laugh. He flicked her nipples lightly with his fingers. She gasped again and without thinking reached down to grasp his cock in her hands, rubbing and squeezing it.

It was his turn to gasp.

He let his head fall back, eyelids closed in bliss as she, for a moment, had the upper hand. She ran her hands over his muscular upper thighs and ass, squeezing it slightly, enjoying watching his expression take on an almost pleading expression.

He opened his eyes and leaned forward, pressing his chest against her breasts, stopping her. His lip curled into a slight grin voice light with lust and urgency, "You ha'fun there baby? Huh?" She leaned forward to kiss him quickly. When she pulls back, his expression was _almost.._.loving. Shellie's breathe was taken away for a second, but then it is gone from his face and she felt his hard cock nudging her entrance. She cried out and moved her hips to him rapidly, his cock fully engulfed in her. He cried out with her, taken by surprise.

Jackie-boy grabbed her breasts, hard, as he started a grueling rhythm, in and out of her that burned away all thought and feeling she might have still had. His hair whipped around his head in sweaty dark strands, and his chest and stomach glistened with beads of sweat.

Shellie grabbed and twisted the sheets desperately as he pounded in and out of her.

"Shellie – fuck – god..damn, baby—"

Just as she thought she couldn't stand it anymore she came to her climax and screamed, back arching and then was spent. He quickly followed her, arching back towards the ceiling, thrusting into her one last time, uttering a rough groan of his own. He sagged forward, hovering over her heaving breasts, as she gasped for breath along with him.

Ragged pants are finally brought down, pulses slowed. Shellie looked up at Jackie-Boy wondering what he was thinking. And that look earlier…was it real? Maybe—

_THWACK!_

She saw stars as his hand slammed into the side of her face. She couldn't even manage to gasp out, eyes wide.

She grabbed her face, tears welling up in her eyes, and running hot down her cheeks, making her mangled cheek sting like hell.

She heard his voice in her ear as he leaned in close.

"Only me, baby. No one else. Got it?"

She whimpered.

He slid under the sheets next to her, turning his back to her, as she turned the other way cradling herself.

She stared at the cracked, faded wall hoping sleep would find her fast, and wondered if she had another bottle of Advil in the bathroom for tomorrow for her cheek.

She thought to herself, as she did every other time.

Fool. Such a fool…


End file.
